Let Me Hear You Whisper
by Hogwarts Duo
Summary: Charles is in London for the Season. Elsie is at Downton Abbey. But a song will bring them closer together, despite the distance between them.


**Let Me Hear You Whisper**

**Summary:** Charles is in London for the Season. Elsie is at Downton. But a song will bring them closer together, despite the distance between them.

Charles Carson was never one to spend money on frivolous things, things of little value, things which would neither enhance his knowledge nor serve a functional purpose in his life. But today, he had stepped inside a new store which had opened the previous year, his curiosity getting the better of him and his pride in wanting only the best quality and value for his intended purchase. He'd heard of Woolworth's but until today, he'd never set foot inside. He'd neither had the opportunity nor the desire, but he was looking for something special, and it couldn't hurt to see just what this new shop had to offer in terms of satisfying his needs.

On several occasions, as he served refreshments to the society ladies during their after dinner chats or their card games, he'd heard them speaking of the modern shops and the quality of the goods in the Brixton area stores of London. Fortunately for him, Charles had thought to make a mental note of the name of the shop most often mentioned and had spent his day off exploring the new store and all its delights.

He'd only meant to stop in for a quick look around, though that thought suddenly sailed through the window once he stepped inside. The stationery shop a few doors down fled from his memory, and Charles soon found himself almost overwhelmed with the choice of papers, envelopes, pens, and even ink colors in this particular section of the store. And that was merely for starters. There were several areas of the store he wished to explore, perhaps on another day, certainly before he returned to Downton Abbey as the season drew to an end.

But today, his mind, while focused on purchasing just the right stationary, envelope, and ink, had been filled with thoughts and images of her. He couldn't get the sight of her out of his mind, nor did he want to, if truths were told. She was the reason for his shopping excursion, and he could only hope and pray that what he was about to do would surprise her and cause the distance between them to diminish, if only for a few stolen moments. He'd never felt so bold, even during those years he spent on the stage. He had never once, in all his life, dreamt of doing something so overt, something so … so … romantic, for lack of a better word. He shook his head at the thought of Charles Carson, the upstanding, uptight, respectable butler of Downton Abbey doing something others might deem as romantic and dreamy, idealistic in its intent, though he was certain someone younger and more experienced in these matters might look at his efforts as foolish and inept. But their opinions were irrelevant to him in this matter. She was the only one whose approval he craved, whose words could make or break him, could make him the happiest man or the saddest with just a single word … no.

At the end of the day, he quietly closed his bedroom door and took a seat at the small desk near his bed. Carefully, he removed the gently wrapped parcels from the drawer and placed them neatly, side by side, organizing them as he still wondered how this daring move would be received. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the idea to abandon him. Ever since he'd heard the song two weeks prior at the Crawley parties for the Lewis family and then again a few days later for the Hobsons, he had been unable to purge the tune from his mind and the words from his lips. He had been lucky to have found the sheet music for it during his trip to Woolworth's earlier. It would certainly make it easier to explain when he sent the music along with his letter.

With the newly purchased, expensive stationery and his new pen and ink set on the desk before him, Charles took a deep breath and began his letter.

_14 June, 1911_

_My Dearest Elsie,_

_This makes my third letter to you in two weeks. One would think I was homesick for Downton, but that is not the case. I simply miss being able to share my thoughts with you on a daily basis. I miss our nightcaps, our spirited discussions, the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh, even the sound of your voice when you're perturbed with me for something you assume I have done. I never thought being away from you would affect me so, but it has, and in quite a profound way. While London is intriguing and there are so many things to occupy the time and mind, nothing compares to a quiet evening spent in your very pleasant company._

_I realize that you have many responsibilities to attend to while we're all away, but I hope you will find some time to persuade one of the hall boys to play this music for you. I, for the life of me, cannot separate the words of the song from the feelings for you that I hold so dear in my heart. The first time I heard the words, I went to bed that very evening and dreamt of you, of holding you in my arms and singing this to you. I considered waiting until we returned from the Season to share this with you, but there are too many weeks left here and my heart was restless. I needed to share my feelings with you, even if it is only on paper. I promise that upon my return to Downton I will tell you these things in person, but for now, please know that the words at the end of this letter perhaps express my feelings for you better than I could using my own feeble choice of words. And please, do not roll your eyes at that last sentence. You know how flustered I get when I am around you, especially when speaking on matters of my heart and my love for you. _

_I hope, desperately, to hear from you soon._

_Until then, I remain … _

_Yours faithfully,_

_Charles_

He read through the letter twice more, making sure everything was in pristine order, his handwriting neat and legible, his words chosen carefully but with a full and happy heart. When he was satisfied, he took out a second sheet of paper, a bit like parchment paper, and used a new pen. With great care and attention to detail, Charles copied the words from the sheet music onto the paper. He hoped Elsie would appreciate the thought he'd put into this small token of his affection, something which symbolized his true feelings for her. It might be something she would tuck away in a cedar box, perhaps where she safely kept his letters and the petals from the first flower he'd ever given her on that Spring afternoon.

As he finished, he folded the paper and pressed his lips to the seal, wondering if she might do the same with her letters to him, wondering if she might press her lips to his letters as if sharing a long distance kiss with him. He might ask her about that … one day. On impulse, he dabbed a drop of his cologne to the paper containing the song lyrics, addressed the envelope, stamped it, then readied himself for bed. He'd make it a point to mail the letter first thing in the morning so there would be no second guessing on his part as to whether it was an appropriate letter for the butler to send to the housekeeper, even if she held the keys to his heart.

Over the next several weeks, dozens of letters were sent between Downton and London, from the butler to his housekeeper, from the housekeeper to her butler. Elsie had expressed her delight and her love at his choice of music and had gone into great detail in her very next letter about how Luke, the young hall boy, had played the music over and over for her one evening. Little did either of them know that she was desperately memorizing the words to the song, writing them all on her heart since they were yet another beautiful declaration of love from the man who had stolen her heart.

With his latest letter, Charles informed Elsie that he would be returning to Downton a few days earlier than he'd expected, a thought which cheered them both greatly. It would allow them a little time together before the family returned, before the duties of their jobs crashed down upon them once more and invaded upon their quiet time together. Elsie took his letter and placed it in her little box with the others, but not before marking his return date on her calendar. Over the next few weeks, she had Luke frequently play the song for her, singing along in her head as he smoothly played the melody which by now he'd memorized.

The remaining weeks they were apart seemed to pass swiftly, for which they were both grateful. Then, on that fateful morning of his return, Elsie woke with a happy smile on her face and a song spilling from her lips. Her Charles would be home this very evening and she wanted to have everything completed so they could spend the evening together. Her work day seemed to pass along on a swift breeze and soon she was tidying up her sitting room in anticipation of his arrival. Suddenly, she could hear the familiar sound of his footsteps as he entered through the back door of the servants hall. Her heart began to race and she instinctively began smoothing down her dress and patting her hair. She opened her door and was greeted by the tall, solid figure of Charles Carson, his familiar cologne washing over her like a summer rain shower kissing the petals of the roses. She greeted him with a broad smile and a flash of happiness in her eyes as she pulled him into her sitting room and into her arms.

"Mercy, how I've missed you! I'm so glad you're home," she breathed, clinging to him like a love-struck teenage girl after her first suitor.

His arms tightened around her and pulled her closer as he drank in the familiar smell of lavender and vanilla from her hair and skin. "It's so good to be back here … in your arms."

She laughed softly and gave him a squeeze before letting go of him. "I made certain to have everything in order so that we might have the entire evening together. I put fresh linens on your bed, ordered a few things that I thought you might need from Ripon, and I even had the lads make a list of everything in the wine cellar for you. But, surely you can go over all that in the morning."

"Absolutely. Let me unpack a few things and after dinner, I'd very much like to spend the evening with you, Elsie. I've missed you … terribly."

"And I've missed you, Charles. I don't know what I would have done without your letters," she said softly. "I trust you enjoyed mine?"

"I couldn't have made it this many weeks without them, dear." He bent and kissed her cheek, picked up his bags then stepped out into the hallway. Taking a deep breath, he stood to his full height and began greeting the rest of the servants with his very authoritative butler voice and presence.

As soon as dinner was over for the evening and all the servants were ushered off to bed, Elsie and Charles joined hands and smiled at each other, happy to be able to relax together at the end of the day. He'd pleaded for five minutes to dash upstairs to retrieve something for her and she agreed to see to their wine. She'd also managed to secure extra slices of the strawberry tartlets Mrs. Patmore had baked earlier in the day.

Ever since she had received his incredibly romantic letter with the song lyrics and music sheet, she'd thought of very little aside from this evening. She hoped to be able to surprise him, to warm his heart as he had hers. She lit a few candles and had just slipped off her shoes when he eased open the door carrying several packages in his hands.

"Gracious, Charles! I thought you were only going for one item. Whatever's all this about?"

"I couldn't help myself," he admitted shyly. "I visited a relatively new store while in London and they had so many things I wanted to buy for you. It was difficult to choose but I tried to purchase things you might enjoy the most." He motioned for her to take a seat on the settee, then he filled her lap with little wrapped parcels.

"Heavens, it feels like Christmas morning, though I dare say I never received so many gifts on any holiday, not even my birthday," she said with a teasing smile. "You must have spent a small fortune on these things. You really shouldn't have."

"Well, you should receive gifts and not just on special occasions or your birthday. And you'll find that I'm rather frugal with my money. I can afford to splurge every once in a while and especially on you." He motioned for her to begin unwrapping her gifts, his impatience and excitement getting the better of him. Within moments, Elsie's floor was littered with the paper and her lap was covered with new material for a dress, new handkerchiefs, some lavender oil, and a pretty green pen to match his.

She stood on her tiptoes and hugged him, placing a light kiss of thanks to his lips. "I have a small surprise for you as well."

"If you mean the strawberry tart and the wine, I saw them when I came in the room."

"Oh no, this is much better, or at least I thought so." She pushed his coat from his shoulders and carefully placed it on the back of the chair before returning to his arms. "Might I have the pleasure of this dance, Mr. Carson," she asked, adding extra emphasis on her r's, her hands already slipping over his chest and around his neck.

"Indeed, Mrs. Hughes. It would be my pleasure," he answered, drawing her close. "But we appear to be lacking music."

She rested her head against his chest and began to hum the tune she'd heard Luke play for her for weeks. "Oh, I don't think we are. I think you chose a perfect song for us weeks ago in London. That was the most beautiful letter I've ever received." As they began to sway gently to Elsie's humming, she soon began to sing very softly to him:

_I am dreaming Dear of you, day by day_

_Dreaming when the skies are blue, When they're gray;_

_When the silv'ry moonlight gleams, Still I wander on in dreams,_

_In a land of love, it seems, Just with you._

_Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you._

_Let me hear you whisper that you love me too._

_Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true._

_Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you._

_Longing for you all the while, More and more;_

_Longing for the sunny smile, I adore;_

_Birds are singing far and near, Roses blooming ev'rywhere_

_You, alone, my heart can cheer; You, just you._

_Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you._

_Let me hear you whisper that you love me too._

_Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true._

_Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you._

When she finished the song, she stilled her movements and looked up into his eyes. "My very own Sweetheart, I am hopelessly in love with you." She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips softly to his, pouring all of her love for him into the kiss, letting him know just how much she loved and missed him. As the kiss ended, she snuggled deeper into his arms, taking comfort and happiness from the sheer closeness of him. "You truly are a romantic at heart, Charles Carson, and I love you very much."

"I wasn't until I fell in love with you, Elsie. The song really does say it better than I could ever express. The first time I heard it, I knew I had to find a way for you to hear it as well. I wanted you to know that I missed you terribly, longed for your smiles, your touch, your voice … even a whispered "I love you," would keep me going. But mostly, knowing that I can call you my very own "sweetheart" and being able to tell you that I love you so much means the world to me. Do you know that?"

She nodded her head and hugged him tightly. "Why don't you sing the words to me while I hum the tune for you? Please …"

"Anything for you, my Sweetheart for I am in love with you."

**The End.**

**A/N:** Woolworth's really did open a store in the Brixton section of London in 1910 and "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" was written in 1910 as well. If you're interested in hearing a beautiful rendition of the song, go to You Tube and search for "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" (with verses) Ukulele UkesterBrown. And as always, reviews are always welcomed and very much appreciated.


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